Sitting in the Shade
by ellzibelz
Summary: Claire Bennet vanished years ago, only now are details of her disappearance coming to light. Story starts from Noah's point of view, then changes.
1. Prelude

Prelude:

Noah Bennet had always been a doing man. He did his job, well, in his eyes. He did the whole husband and father role, as well as he could, under the circumstances. And now he did retirement, terribly.

Life had fallen apart fairly rapidly, since Claire's abduction; it was stupid to tell him anything else. Sandra had sunk so far into denial, that on her death bed she was still chattering on about how she and Claire were going to see a dog show. Lyle had at least turned his grief into something constructive, finally becoming the writer he always could have been. Harsh as it may have been Noah found it hard to excuse his late wife's weakness, because, as horrific as it had been, it has happened to all of them; she just chose the easy way out.

Now sitting here in the baking Miami sun, Noah Bennet had to admit that Claire's disappearance had hurt him far more then he had thought was possible. Since childhood Noah had built up the walls that would keep him safe, prevent heartbreak. He would hide behind his horn rimed glasses and watch the world go by, and although he was a doer he always worked in the fringes of life, his influence never really seen. Sandra had pounded ineffectually on his emotional walls, and even Lyle has failed to penetrate that icy exterior; but Claire was… well Claire. She had shattered his defences and left him more vulnerable then he could've imagined.

Noah took a sip of cold water rubbing the back of his now non-existent neck, removing the sweat that was slowly tracing wet tracks on his skin.

He came and sat here in this ridiculously uncomfortable chair, in this blistering heat, every day. Not because it gave him a chance to observe the local going's on but because if he didn't he knew his daughter would come back.

He had been on a business trip, three years after Claire's loss, sitting in the sweltering heat when he had seen a raven haired man step out of the shop in front of him. He would have called out Peter's name, but before his mouth could utter a single syllable Peter had pulled a young girl, no woman, behind him. Her golden hair streamed down her back and in the sling round her shoulders was a small child. Any inclination that Noah might have had to draw attention to himself evaporated faster then the water in his glass. Instead he lowered his slightly raised hand and watched the small family sit themselves down at a table across the road.

Peter's hair was shorter then Noah had seen it before, with only a few tendrils of coal coloured strands falling across his forehead. He swiped at these flyaway pieces of hair and his golden wedding band glittered in the sun. Married! Noah's mind screamed but still he sat silent. Claire looked radiant, her face down turned as she gazed at the honey blonde child in her arms. Noah could only see the stubby little hand waving up at its mother, yet he still noticed the warmth in Claire's eyes as she tucked the child more comfortably into its bed. She looked… older, if that was possible for her. A few words of the family's conversation drifted over to Noah as he sat, incredulous in the shade. "… Should really get moving again..."

"…Can't let them find us…"

"…Will always love you…"

Noah wondered briefly who they meant by 'them' until he saw the couple rise. If there was any time at which he could've stood up and made his presence known then it would've been then but Peter stopped him. It had not gone unnoticed by Noah the way that Peter looked at Claire, with such adoration, and now his feelings were visible for all to see as he bent down and kissed Claire. It was with such passion and tenderness that it stopped Noah Bennet, the doing man, dead in his chair. Peter then kissed the child, his grandchild he realised with a shock, and stood up again. He took Claire's hand and together the young family walked down the street, leaving Noah Bennet feeling more alone then he ever had in his entire life.

Noah was a doer and now he would wait at this café for the rest of his life; waiting for his little girl, because at least then he could say he was doing something.


	2. Before the worst

Claire Bennet had never had a cruel soul. She had loved everybody and everybody had adored her, it was just the way her life was. Why should Peter Petrelli be any different? Tall, dark and handsome, he was bound to catch her attention, even if their relationship wasn't strictly legal. Ok that was the understatement of the century, but in her eyes when her father died so did any familial connection to Peter.

She had changed the world. There was no denying that, even if it wasn't quite what she had hoped. She never would fully understand what made her jump off that Ferris wheel, seeing as she had always been the one who just 'wanted to fit in'.

Peter had always wanted to make a difference and he had confided to her once that watching her take the world into her own hands and change it completely, was the moment that he had first realised his true feelings.

But then everything had transformed into a place that she didn't know, and it all happened in the time it took for her to fall.

After snapping her bones back into place she had scurried through the crowd, finally reaching a secluded booth where she could be alone, and catch the breath that had been forced out of her lungs by the hard earth. It was only supposed to be for a second but before she knew what was really happening darkness enveloped her.


	3. Alone In Hell

Alone in Hell

Claire's head was throbbing, and seeing as she was immortal that probably wasn't a good sign. She tried to open her eyes, she really did, but the darkness was so warm and she could almost feel the harsh light pressing against her eyelids.

But after a while the dark started to twist into confusing patters, which made her feel dizzy, forcing her to crack open one eyelid. The light that assailed her eyes should have been made illegal. Groaning she opened the other eye and after a few minutes her vision had cleared enough that she could see… well nothing really. It was just blankness, she was surrounded by white. Against her body's loud protests she eased herself into a sitting position and found that there was at least an end to the whiteness. There were four white walls with a white floor and yeah, you guessed it, a white ceiling. Claire slowly stood up, swaying slightly before striding over to one of the walls and tracing one tentative finger over the unblemished barrier. There was no door, no windows, no vents, no nothing! Claire had never been particularly good with confined spaces, and she could feel the panic bubbling up inside her. She slammed one fist against the wall and felt her regenerative powers kick in before she had even smashed her other fist into the wall. A terrified scream broke free from her lips and soon she was pummelling the wall with all the strength that she had.

After a few ineffectual minutes she sank sobbing to the floor where she rested her head on trembling hands, bloody and already healing.

It was lying on her hands that she fell asleep.

When she awoke the cell was dark, although there had never been any lights to begin with. Another change was the bowl of water and the slice of bread lying in one corner of the small room. Claire hadn't realised just how hungry she was until she scrambled over to the food. Her teeth tore through the bread with an urgency that someone who can't starve shouldn't have felt; next she glugged down the water, the tepid taste only managing to leave her mouth feeling dirty.

But the tiny meal was not enough to quench her curiosity, or her fear. She couldn't see any way out of this predicament, which seemed so much worse then any other that she had faced, and she had faced some of the worst. First there was no way out, that much she knew. Secondly no one else knew where she was, or even where she had gone after the Ferris wheel accident. Thirdly she didn't know who had done this, remembering only the vile stench of the sack that had been forcefully shoved over her head. Her fathers horrified face swum in front of her eyes and she couldn't hold back the few tears that slid down her pallid cheeks. Her clothes were torn and muddy, but mercifully intact; she had her modesty at least.

She wondered what Peter was doing; probably swanning around with that woman, completely unaware that Claire was in hell. A burst of anger fuelled her stubborn side and she crawled into a standing position, where she traced ever inch of her cell, looking for one possible weak point in the wall, but to no avail.

When Claire next regained consciousness she was still in the cell but the walls once again emitted a harsh glow, and in the corner was another bowl of water, and more bread.

Little did Claire know then that this was the way her life would continue for the next year.

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	4. Awakening to the Darkness

Peter wished it could've been him. He knew it was selfish, but as he gazed at where Claire had landed, he wished he could've been then one who had taken that monumental leap. But he had stood on the sidelines and watched the girl, now a woman, he loved fall. Yes, he loved her, and fear for her rose like bile in his throat. Had she thought about what she was doing? Did she realise that she would never be able to claim the normal that she had always craved? Peter didn't think so somehow. Tearing his eyes away from the ground he looked around the deserted carnival, whose flashing lights looked more feeble then sinister. He saw Noah Bennet hurrying towards him, but pretended not to see him. He had no more energy left to argue with Noah, and he didn't think he could face Claire, seeing her through the eyes of a lover, instead of those of an uncle. It repulsed him a little as hurried away from the carnival that he was even remotely related to Claire, just one of the barriers separating their parallel lives. No, he would keep his distance, focus on his relationship with Emma and try to forget that Claire had ever meant more to him, then just some cheerleader in Texas.

Days passed, and although Noah continued to call incessantly, he didn't listen to any of the many messages now clogging up his machine. Emma became a permanent fixture in his apartment, and although he knew what he was doing was essentially cruel, he just couldn't take this helpless substitute away. With her slightly wavy blonde hair and winning smile, it repulsed him that he only led her on because of her resemblance to his niece… God he was twisted.

Emma left he didn't know how many months into his charade. Her absence while being strange was a relief to Peter. Maybe now he could find the closure he had longed for, without the emotional baggage Emma had presented. Peter chose his drug of choice, alcohol, and continued to abuse it and its side-effects, mainly low-self-esteemed women, desperately seeking deep and meaningful connections in their beer bottles. It sickened Peter that he had been driven to become like them. Noah continued to call.

One day, weeks later Peter decided to change. It wasn't one of those huge epiphanies, just a gentle nudge from his brain that it was unacceptable to live like this, especially when he didn't even have immortality left to blame it on. One shameful thought came from what Nathan would think if he could see him now, which if Peter knew his controlling older brother, he probably could. These thoughts of Nathan brought him dangerously close to Claire, but he decided not to allow that link to permeate his consciousness. The message light continued to glow on his answering machine. This time however instead of erasing the message he pressed the dusty play button, allowing Noah's weary tones to fill his apartment.

'_Peter, I know if you had even listened to one of my messages then you wouldn't ignore me. I can only hope you actually hear this one, because honestly I don't know how I can go on living like this. Claire is still missing and she is still your flesh and blood. I'm begging you to help me, as I have exhausted all my possibilities. You can hate me all you want, which is the only reason I can use to account for your silence, but I implore you not to make my daughter pay. Help me… please.'_

Peter stared. The machine went on to tell him that the message had come in last week. That meant Noah had given up and stopped calling. That meant all hope might be lost. That meant that the love of his life might be dead… the immortal girl gone. It was an impossible concept, something he screamed at the wall as he repeatedly pummelled it with his fists. "She can be dead… she CAN'T!"

The next day he called Parkman, who despite wishing to resume his normal life, had at least been looking for Claire. He informed him about her abduction and that they had no leads what-so-ever. Peter couldn't bring himself to call Noah. Didn't think he would be able to face the accusation in the broken man's tone. Peter knew Noah had never begged in his life.

Suddenly Peter was filled with an urgency he hadn't felt since he had first dreamed of an exploding man and a desolate city. He would find Claire…dead, or alive. He would find her and give her the life she deserved.


End file.
